


The Broken Heart is Blind

by dimeliora



Category: CW Network RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, Angst, Dirty Talk, Extremely Dubious Consent, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Rimming, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-02
Updated: 2014-03-03
Packaged: 2018-01-14 10:10:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1262389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dimeliora/pseuds/dimeliora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen Ackles would be on top of the world, rising in the Pileggi organization and put in charge of the biggest deal in years, but all of the accomplishment is tarnished by the loss of his boyfriend Jared Padalecki. Jared broke his heart, left him for the Boss's son, but Jensen is beginning to believe he's not the only one keeping secrets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> All the art here is the product of 2BlueShoes, and man she is excellent.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Two months ago if anyone had asked Jensen Ackles if he was happy he would have said yes. Unequivocally yes, and simply leaned back and smiled. He had a great job, he had a close knit group of friends, and he had what was, _arguably_ , the best boyfriend on the planet. The kind of guy that could sit back and watch the Cowboys for the first half of the game, and spend the second half on his knees if the game was going badly. The kind of boyfriend that didn’t press, didn’t beg, and most importantly understood. Because Jensen knows he’s not the easiest person to get along with. But he had all of that, and he was happy.

Which is why it’s so goddamn frustrating that he’s sitting at the table now, beer clutched in one hand, and shitty rap blasting over the speakers while the man he’s supposed to be making sure stays safe and whole presses against said boyfriend, _now ex_ , and whispers something in Jared’s ear that makes the dimples Jensen used to lick appear. Logically there’s no way for him to hear the laughter, but he does anyway, memory boosting the sound to full Dolby Surround.  He wants to fucking break something, but he doesn’t really have any options because this is his _job_ right now, and he’ll be damned if the boss’s son gets hit on his watch. That would be the end of it for him, and as much as he hates watching this he’d hate a bullet in his skull just a _tad_ bit more.

So he takes the ribbing Mike’s giving him with good natured cheer, and simply drinks his beer and scans the crowd for potential issues. The music changes, and while Kanye West sings about a heartless woman Jared’s eyes light on him for all of two seconds, the look unreadable and blank, and then his ex links his hand into Liam Pileggi’s hand and leads him out onto the dance floor. Mike shifts beside him and drops his beer onto the table.

“Goddamn it. Do they have to do this? Don’t they know how hard it is to watch a dance floor?”

Jensen could tell Mike that they didn’t have to. That Jared hates this music, hates dancing to it, and hates being in crowds. But how would he know? Jared also supposedly hated philanderers, and look at him now. That tight ass Jensen knows so well pressed against Liam’s crotch as Jared shifts and sways to the heavy-handed lyrical equivalent of their life. Do all these fucking songs have to do with cheating bitches?

“Just keep an eye on them. I’m gonna hit the head.” There’s a flash of sympathy in Mike’s face that Jensen wants to see less than the sight on the dance floor, and he ignores it so that he can head to the bathroom. He sizes up the guy at the urinal and considers starting a fight to blow off steam before discarding that thought and heading for a stall. It gives him time to take a few deep breaths, to get a hold on himself, and then he’s back out and washing his hands before heading for the table again. Mike has his coat, and Jensen is almost grateful that this latest endurance test is over. Except when Mike catches his eye and looks apologetic.

“I just got a call man. They’re headed back, and they want you outside the door. Stand watch. His regular bodyguard should be back in two hours.”

This, _this bullshit_ , is not Jensen’s job. He is not supposed to be watching the boss’s kid fuck Jared, and he’s not a fucking babysitter. If Sterling hadn’t called in to say his wife was sick then Jensen would be out and about on his own tonight, or somewhere settling a score, just something, _anything_ , other than this fucking torture.

Instead he drives the car back, listens to Jared’s breathy little sounds as the bastard sits on Liam’s lap, and thinks of the many different ways he used to bring those sounds out. The many ways he could make them turn into pain.

The ride takes forever, and then Jensen sets up shop outside of the hotel suite, holster concealed under his jacket and arms crossed over his chest. The hallway stays quiet, and the walls are blessedly thick here. Then Sterling shows up, and he’s almost gone, _almost_ free, until Liam sticks his head out.

“Jackson?”

Jensen clenches his jaw and then turns, slow and easy. “Yes sir?”

“Jackson would you do me a favor and drive Jared home? He’s had a little too much to drink I’m afraid, and I have an early morning. Thanks.” And all Jensen can do is nod. He isn’t fucking required to smile though. It isn’t like Liam doesn’t know Jensen’s name, or the history between himself and Jared. After all, hadn’t Jensen practically set them up?

There is silence for a few minutes, Sterling shooting him the most piteous look of the night, and then Jared comes stumbling out. Part of Jensen quirks at it, eyes narrowing to take in the way Jared staggers in the circle of Liam’s arms, and how his eyes droop heavily. His lips are swollen, bitten red, and dark marks travel the length of his neck. He hadn’t seemed this drunk when they got in the car, but they’d probably kept up the partying beyond the doors of Liam’s suite.

He dutifully takes Jared from Liam’s hands, holding the taller man up as Liam kisses him once goodbye and then shuts the door with Sterling inside. That leaves Jensen standing in the plush hallway, his ex-boyfriend hanging off him looking like a drunken hooker. Oh the vet’s office Jared works for is going to love this look tomorrow.

“Come on. Let’s go.” He isn’t necessarily rough with Jared, but he does pull hard in the direction of the elevators. Jared stumbles along, hanging off his arm with his head pointed down and hair in his face. He reeks of booze, and that only fuels Jensen’s anger. Jared had never been much of a lush either.

 

\---

 

 

When they’d met two years earlier it was at the little vet’s office that Jared had been working for since he graduated high school. Jensen had come in with an armful of yipping dog, fully aware how silly he looked and completely unconcerned. He’d once broken a man’s nose for making fun of Icarus, and with the mood he was in at that moment had anyone thought to crack a smile at him for carrying a lap dog in Jensen probably would have pulled his piece.

The receptionist, a tall and ridiculously gorgeous young man, had looked up from the papers in front of him to spot Jensen and his hyper-active bundle, and then he was moving up and around the desk with a clipboard in one hand and the other pushing long, shaggy bangs out of his eyes.

“What’s the-oh hello buddy! Hi!” Somehow Icarus managed to turn, spot the oncoming man, and then contrary to every one of the dog’s previous moments of bitchery he decided to jump from Jensen to the kid and go directly for those suddenly appearing dimples. All Jensen could do was watch as Icarus laved the angular cheekbones and licked over one well-placed mole and up to the tilted curve of the guy’s left eye.

“He’s-sorry that’s not-Icarus!” But the dog couldn’t care less what Jensen thought appropriate behavior was. Instead he appeared only concerned with tasting every inch of the receptionist’s face. The receptionist, for his part, seemed inordinately pleased with this outcome.

“I get this all the time. It’s no big deal.” Whatever the guy saw in Jensen’s face he immediately blushed and launched into what was one of the fastest rants Jensen had ever seen outside of an interrogation room. “No not like that-I mean dogs like me but getting my face licked isn’t really usual and I-that’s not like an activity for me because I’m just-I work here and there are a lot of animals so-Hi my name is Jared, and welcome to the Murray Animal Clinic. How may I help you?”

For a second, one very long and awkward second, all Jensen could do was stare. When he started laughing though, one hand clutching his stomach and the other going to his hair he saw the way Jared just smiled more broadly and nodded like he was used to that sort of reaction. It took a while for Jensen to get himself back in control, eyes tearing up and stomach muscles fluttering tightly.

“I’m Jensen. Ackles. I’m new to the area and this is my mutt Icarus. Who ate three quarters and a couple dimes this morning.”

Jared’s eyebrow darted up, and then he lifted Icarus a bit and stared into the little face. “Change buddy? Not too good. Let’s get you admitted, huh?” Jared talked to Icarus the whole time, marking off slots on a form before handing it to Jensen and continuing his steady conversation. By the time they actually got into one of the rooms Jensen knew Jared’s favorite food, red meat, his hometown, San Antonio, and his shoe size, _intriguing_. He also knew that the guy hit four out of five of his requirements for relationship material. Goddamn Spurs.

Despite all that when the vet was finally done, and Jared was the one that came back in with the X-Ray Jensen was a lot less interested and a lot more panicked. The dimples were back in full force, eyes bright and lit up from within as Jared waved the film like a conquering king and spoke directly to Jensen’s bewildered dog.

“You’re a consummate liar!” Jensen jerked backwards hard, elbow colliding with the table holding the instruments and sending them flying. Which was when Jared looked up like he’d forgotten Jensen was there at all. That changed entirely when he rushed forward and grabbed for Jensen’s arm, pulling it up and then pushing the sleeve upwards so he could investigate Jensen’s elbow. “Dude, you gotta watch yourself. That sort of clumsiness will get you hurt. I used to trip over stuff all the time when I was a kid. You know, limbs too long, and growth spurts. My awkward phase was roughly fifteen years long, but I got over it. Don’t worry you will too.” Jared stopped when Jensen held his hand up.

“Stop. Why did you call my dog a liar?”

Jared’s face lit up and he waved the X-Ray again.

“No change. He must have knocked it off your counter and you didn’t hear it clatter. Your little boy is gonna be just fine!” Jared’s grin faltered slightly. “We still have to charge you for the service though. Sorry ‘bout that, but it’s policy.”

All the weight lifted off of Jensen’s shoulders, and he slumped backwards against the wall and watched Icarus lick his leg as the little dog ignored the years he’d taken off of Jensen’s life.

“That’s fine. I can pay it. Just good news to hear he’s fine.”

“Yeah I bet. They can be scary like that. I got two of my own and they’ve eaten the weirdest stuff. Man one time I came home and Harley had taken all the trim off my brand new couch. First piece of furniture I ever bought and he ruined it in four hours! Damnedest thing. Hey-so-you’re from Texas right?”

 

\-----

 

Now, all this time later it is hard to see that bright and lively man in the slumped form currently resting against the passenger window in Jensen’s Impala, silent and pulled in on himself.  Jensen leaves the radio off, because nothing gets under Jared’s skin like silence.

The plan is to leave Jared stewing in his own juices, to let him feel the weight of it and suffer, and that’s why Jensen’s own voice surprises him. “You look like shit.”

Jared’s head thumps softly against the window once, defeat in the lines of his shoulders. “Thanks.”

“Maybe you should drink less. You’ve always been a lousy drunk.” What the fuck is he doing?

“Thanks.” Jared’s voice has no inflection at all. There isn’t even a shade of the guy Jensen met that day in the vet’s office. No sign of the man he loved at all.

“I’m surprised your boyfriend didn’t-“

“Could you shut up? I can’t-just shut up.” There’s silence again, Jared’s face still turned into the window, and Jensen suddenly wants nothing more than to get a rise out of him. To see some sign of life.

“It’s just, you were so eager to trade up I figured you’d be happy. You don’t look happy you look-“

He stops. Stops because Jared is shaking, and that’s not right. That’s not what he was expecting. He wanted yelling. Thought there would be anger and recrimination. Instead Jared is hunched down so low he looks like a child in the passenger seat.

“Please stop Jensen.  I can’t-not tonight.” They’ve reached their destination, and Jared pushes the door open and stumbles to the sidewalk before tripping over his own long legs and practically slamming into the front door of the apartment building. And Jensen? Yeah, he’s not ok with that.

He’s seen Jared this drunk only once in all the time they’ve known each other, and he can still remember how harrowing that night was. How hard it was to keep his mouth shut and his secret in. So he opens his door and moves around the car before catching Jared as his former lover slumps against the building.

Jared’s skin is clammy, hot against his hands as he pushes in the security code he knows by heart and helps lift Jared up the four flights of stairs and to his own door. He still has a key, and he uses it to let them both in. He expects to be slammed by two large walls of fur, but he doesn’t hear Harley or Sadie anywhere in the little apartment. The place is familiar, and he knows his way back to Jared’s bedroom.

His ex slumps into the bed, head still down, and it occurs to Jensen that he hasn’t seen Jared’s face since earlier in the night. That Jared _doesn’t sound drunk_. He reaches for the chin on instinct, fingers gripping bone and tilting upwards until he can see the beloved up-turned hazel eyes. They’re wet, but clear. Sober.

“Jared-what the fuck man? What’s going on?”

There’s a long and tense silence, and then Jared pulls his chin out of Jensen’s hand and pushes him weakly away. “Go home Jensen. I’m just tired. Go home.”

“No. This is not you tired. You tired is whining and sleepy declarations about candy. You tired is a whole different fucking ballgame. What the hell is going on?”

For a second he honestly thinks Jared won’t answer. That they’ll stay in this stalemate forever. Then the eyes come back up, defiant and sparkling.

“This is me tired after getting fucked through a mattress, man. Guess you just never saw me properly sated.”

And with that? Jensen is out of the apartment so fast he may as well have been shot at. He slams the front door, storms his way down the stairs, and then takes off with a squeal of tires as the rage burns hot and bright through his whole system.

 

\------

 

 

He goes to a part of Boston none of his current associates would be caught dead in. The strip club is nice, upscale, and he buys time in the V.I.P room with a lady that isn’t on the stage. One that he knows for a fact is only available for him.

Her red hair bobs as she closes the door and moves in, hips swaying and heavily outlined eyes narrowed. “Took you long enough.”

“Fuck off. It’s been a long night.” She takes position over his crotch, grinding for the benefit of the cameras as she speaks lowly.

“Sorry Jen. I know. So what have you got for me?”

He keeps his hands clear of her skin and leans back to let his eyes roam over what is being shown. “The deal is going down next week Danni. It’s a lock. Pier 16 in Warehouse 23. Who am I going to be working with on the Russian side?”

Her smile is wicked as she pops the fastening on her bra and twists just slightly. “Misha. You remember Misha right?”

Jensen curses once and then reminds himself to keep his face dopey and interested. “How could I forget? The lunatic shot at me. I rarely forget people who _shoot at me_.”

“Chris says it was a warning shot, and that you’ve had worse. It’ll be fine. Do you want your next briefing to be here, or the bar?”

That’s a tempting consideration. It’s easier to meet with Danni when he feels like this, on edge and ready to pop, but he misses talking to Chris. They were best friends coming up, and Jensen honestly hates the incredibly limited interaction they’ve had over the past few years.

“Bar. Set it up and send me the message.”

She smiles again, less wicked, and he doesn’t miss how she tilts her face so that the camera can’t see it. “Jen, you gonna be ok? I know this is hard for you. How was Jared?”

“Acting the slut. At least he finally quit being fake I guess. My time is up Danni. Get off.”

She doesn’t look hurt, and that only makes him angrier. More pensive.

 

 

\-----

 

 

Home doesn’t help much. Icarus yips and whines until he fills the bowl to the dog’s required level, and then he watches the little guy wolf the food down as he turns things over in his head. The odd way Jared acted even though he looked and sounded sober, the way his hips moved against Liam, and the laughter that used to be Jensen’s.

Since the day Jared came out and told him the truth, _left him_ , nothing has made much sense to Jensen, and he knows that if he tries to think through the rage and heartbreak he can probably figure out why. Although the most logical answer is simply that Jared, like most people, saw his chance and took it. Liam is a better option. More money, more power, just more everything. Except Jared had never seemed to care about any of that.

His ruminations are killed by the sound of his cellphone ringing, and he picks it up to hear Mike’s voice on the other end of the line. “ _Jensen. What are you up to tomorrow?_ ”

One longing look is cast to his bed and then he rubs at his hair. “Nothing man. Why, what’s up?”

“ _Boss is calling all hands on deck. He wants to go over this deal from every angle to make sure nobody makes a mistake. Also, I think he wants to talk to you before you go meet with that Russian prick._ ”

Mitch Pileggi is hands on with his organization. Every aspect controlled and carefully monitored, and this is nothing new. Still, Jensen would love a day off. “Yeah man. I’m there. Where’s the meet going down at?”

“ _Antonio’s. 12:30. So come hungry dude, ‘cause all the pasta you can eat._ ”

“Will do.” He hangs up, pets Icarus for a little while as he sips his beer, and then collapses into bed. He’ll shower tomorrow. For right now he just needs a little sleep.

 

 

\----

 

 

The dream takes him by surprise. In it Jared is sitting in the living room, waiting for him to come home. The coffee table, usually taken up with empty beer bottles and video game controllers, has been mostly emptied. The contents are scattered across the floor, and all that’s left is Jensen’s back-up gun, a ski mask, and a newspaper. Jensen stares at all of it, and he knows for a fact what the headline says. What Jared is staring at. After all, he rode along for the job didn’t he? He held the gun and he threatened the security guard. He just didn’t pull the trigger.

“D’you-“ Jared’s voice breaks once, and then he swallows and looks up. His eyes are glazed, mouth twisted downwards and hands shaking. He’s obviously blitzed, voice slurred and unsure. “D’you do this? Shoot that guy Jen?”

And Jensen just wants to go back in time and hide it all from Jared. To move heaven and earth so that Jared isn’t looking at this. Jared who cries every time they put an animal down, Jared who spends what little free time he has volunteering at a shelter. Jared who is the one bright light Jensen has seen since he started this whole fucking thing.

“I didn’t kill anyone.”

“But you’re-“ he gestures again and swallows thickly, “-you’re in this? Y’all did this?”

Jared has met the crew, has drank with them, and Jensen was very careful that they never talked about work. That they never, _ever_ , discussed anything important. That everyone knew Jared was not part of the life, and was never meant to be.

“Jay. Jay I can explain.” Except he can’t. He really can’t. Oh sure, he can tell Jared the lies. Can tell him that he’s one of a number of enforcers for the infamous Mitch Pileggi, that he hurts people for a living, but he can’t say the rest of it. Can’t say the part that will take that bereft and broken expression off Jared’s face.

His lover staggers up, stumbles past him, and Jensen manages to grab his arm. Jared strikes at him, and Jensen easily dodges and grabs that arm too. Holds on even as Jared struggles in his grip. “No. No you bastard! You bastard!” Jared is crying, the sound heart-breaking and open. “I love you and you’re-fuck you! Fuck!”

Jensen holds on as Jared struggles. Holds on despite not deserving to until Jared goes limp in his arms and pants heavily. He’s shaking so hard Jensen is honestly worried for his health. “Jay. I didn’t shoot anybody. I promise you sweetheart I didn’t shoot anybody.”

“But you do. You shoot people Jensen. You’re a-a-I can’t. Oh god I can’t.” Jared’s face is pressed against his neck, slick with tears and snot as he cries out his fear. “Why? Why did you do this?”

_To protect people like you_. “It’s a life. A living Jared. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He can’t help himself, kisses one sweaty temple and feels the taller man shudder and shake in his arms. “I’m sorry sweetheart. I’m sorry.”

He wakes with a gasp, hand reaching automatically out to the empty half of the bed beside him and finding smooth and cool sheets instead of the tall and lanky body he’s expecting. The light is shining unforgivingly through the windows, and Jensen knows one thing for sure. Whatever happened, whatever went down between them, Jared never planned on trading up.

And Jensen? Doesn’t particularly care for unsolved mysteries.

 

 

\-----

 

 

The meeting goes off without a hitch. Jensen gets all the information he needs, and the meeting time for Misha. Which leaves him with two days off and no real plan other than to start on his new problem.

He briefly flirts with the idea of pretending Icarus is sick and going to the clinic, but that seems like a bad plan. Which leaves him with only two other options. The first, Chad, is untenable, so Jensen chooses the second.

Sandy’s loft is across town, in a better area of Boston than his run-down little apartment, and he parks down the street and then takes the sidewalk slowly. He’s not sure what’s going to be waiting for him on the other side of the door, but when Sandy opens it and starts scowling he knows for a fact that this isn’t going to go as smoothly as he hoped.

“What do you want Ackles?”

He looks around the hallway for a second and then gestures behind her into the wide open space. She seems to consider the request, eyes darkening again briefly with anger, and then she steps back. Jensen has to bite back the automatic response of reminding her that it was her best friend that broke his heart and not the other way around.

“I want you to tell me the truth Sandy. I want to know what happened with Jared.”

Her eyes go cagy, slide away from him even as she starts fiddling with her hair. He can pick out a thousand little details, trained eye going from the fresh paint spattered across her hand to the way she can’t make eye contact anymore. All that inappropriate anger is magically gone.

“I don’t-look he told you. He got tired. Moved on. I suggest you do the same. Now I have-“

He steps into her space, sees the way she flinches back, but he’s got to do this. Jared’s probably told her what he does for a living. He can’t see Jared keeping that secret from his two best friends.

“Bullshit Sandy. Jared’s not like that. What’s going on?”

Suddenly she’s angry again, little finger jabbing into his sternum even as she steps forward and pushes. It surprises him so much he actually steps back.

“What do you care? You didn’t care to see when it was happening. Called him a slut and threw him away, and then just laughed about him with your fucking _friends_. So why, suddenly, does the great Jensen Ackles care even a little bit what happens to lowly Jared Padalecki?”

That’s Jensen’s snapping point. “He fucked another dude Sandy. I don’t think it’s outta line for me to be upset. In fact I think I’ve got the right to be a little damn angry about that!”

Something crosses over her face, swift and brutally afraid, and then she gets control. Her eyes narrow even more, and she throws both hands up. “You’re right. He’s a big old slut. Congratulations, you figured him out. Now get out of my house. Wouldn’t want me calling the _cops_ would you?”

He leaves. Not necessarily because he’s afraid of her calling the police, but because he’s not getting anywhere here other than ramping up his own anger. Chad will be worse, and that leaves Jared. So Jensen rides over to the Murray Animal Clinic, and realizes when he pulls up his cover story is sitting at home no doubt chewing on one of his shoes.

To prove the universe is out to get him Chad Michael Murray himself is sitting behind the counter, feet propped up on the surface as he flips through a magazine. The look he gives Jensen could kill a man if the little fucker wasn’t so impotent.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Chad flips the magazine shut and stands, hands clenching into fists. This is the second time today one of Jared’s friends has greeted him in this way, and Jensen is more than a little sick of it.

“Getting heartworm meds.” It slips off his tongue before he considers the words. “Where’s Jared?”

Chad rolls his eyes and throws a package of Advantage onto the counter before ringing up his purchase. “You know damn well where he is.”

“Yes. I do. That’s why I came here to see you, because I love hearing you berate me and tell me shit I already know. Where is he Murray?”

For a second there’s that same shadow he saw in Sandy’s face, and then Chad clamps down hard on it and slams Jensen’s change onto the counter. Dimes go flying past him, and an old lady sitting in one of the chairs and petting a lapdog jumps and gives a little shriek.

“He’s at home. Doctors gave him a week of bed rest. Now get the fuck outta my dad’s clinic.”

 

\----

 

For their first date Jensen let Jared choose the restaurant. They ended up at a combination Chinese and Hibachi buffet, and Jensen stood in the gaudy foyer staring at the abundance of neon lights, fountains, and chandeliers.

“I have some money you know. I coulda taken you some place nice.” Jared’s eyes were darting over the water in the largest of the fountains, following the movement of Koi fish as if they’d stand up and start delivering a speech any second. He didn’t bother looking away to respond.

“This _is_ someplace nice. Dude, wait ‘til you try their Pepper Steak. It’s like sex on a plate.” Jared’s eyes finally left the fountain and landed on him. “Plus, if you’re insisting on footing the bill you’re gonna be glad I picked this place. Trust me.”

Six plates later Jensen finally understood. Jared ate like it was the first and last time food would ever be put in front of him. He made happy little noises as he hoovered up the contents of each plate and bowl, and at one point he grabbed a dumpling off of Jensen’s plate and then gave a wicked grin as he breathed it in.

“It’s incredible you’re not fat.” Jared’s cat-like eyes angled up to look at him over a mouthful of Lo Mein.

“I work out a lot.” He swallowed his mouthful of noodles and then wiped his lips. “Plus, I got one of those metabolisms. If you think this is bad you should’ve seen me when I was a teenager and still having growth spurts. Momma thought I was gonna bankrupt them with how I ate. So this isn’t so bad, and it’s a buffet which means-“ Jared cut himself off and flushed, looking away for a second and then back. “I talk a lot too.”

It was oddly self-conscious, and there was something heavy there. Jensen got the impression that Jared had been mocked for all of this behavior before, and that he was expecting more of the mockery now. That just wouldn’t do.

“Well I don’t know how my paycheck is gonna like feeding you, but I’m just fine listening to you jabber.”

Jared’s eyes lit up, dimples appearing as the smile overtook his face. He shoveled another forkful of Lo Mein in before leaning forward and kissing Jensen’s cheek. It was odd. Innocent and chaste, sloppy with sauce, and totally out of character for anyone Jensen had spent any time with in the last few years. He liked it instantly.

“You’re a nice guy Jensen Ackles.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.” He forked up a dumpling and bit into it. “Reserve your judgment for later.”

Jared’s head shook, eyes bright and dancing as he slurped up the last of his noodles. “Nope. Calling the game right here and now. Jensen Ackles equals nice guy. So what are we doing after dinner?”

And Jensen? Well he could think of about twenty or thirty different things he wanted say to that, but he settled for one that wasn’t too assuming. “How about we go back to my place and see how good a loser you are. I got an Xbox.”

His date’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Call of Duty? Guitar Hero?”

When Jensen nodded in response those dimples showed up again, and he had to swallow dumpling to avoid licking them.

“Sounds good to me. But I gotta warn you, I’m a pro.”

He thought of the gun tucked into the holster on his ankle. Of the many things he’d done, and the things he was going to continue to do until his duty was discharged. “Yeah. So am I.”

 

\-----

 

Which is how Jensen finds himself using his key and going into Jared’s apartment for the second time in two days. There’s still no Harley and Sadie, and that low alarm that’s been going off in his head since last night gets louder and more insistent.

He takes the small number of steps necessary to be in the living room and sees the shaggy top of Jared’s hair hanging awkwardly over the couch. There are very few pieces of furniture made for guys Jared’s size, and he used to bitch constantly about how the world was prejudiced against awesome people. Awesome people his code word for freakishly tall Jensen would respond.

It takes everything inside of him to walk around the couch, to bend down, and then to really look at Jared. In the harsh light of day he can see the bruised circles underneath his former lover’s eyes. He can take in the dark hickeys and their placement, and his eyes move down to see how Jared’s clothes hang on him like he’s lost weight, and how utterly fragile he looks lying there and grinding his teeth. Then Jensen sees the cast around Jared’s right wrist.

Everything, everything he’s known and everything he’s learned about this world and its consequences goes out the window. All he can see is the cast, and all he can think is that it must have been broken that night. That it must have been broken when Jensen drove off and left Jared alone, even though he knew something was wrong. Let himself be played.

He sees red, and it’s without a thought that he grabs Jared’s leg and shakes him. The younger man comes awake with flying elbows, eyes wide and terrified until they catch sight of Jensen. Then he’s pale for a new reason.

“Who the fuck broke your wrist?” He’s growling, enraged, and Jared’s hands shake for all of two seconds before he gets control of himself and pulls away from Jensen.

“Get out.” His voice is sleep husky but level, and he half hides the broken limb like he can take back Jensen seeing it.

“Who Jared? Give me a goddamn name.”  There’s a moment where he thinks Jared will. A softening in those hazel eyes, slanted just so and enhanced by the little mole Jensen used to love to press his lips against. Except then the eyes shut down, go blank, and Jared turns his head away and locks down tight.

“You need to leave Jensen. Liam wouldn’t like you being here.” Jensen can only watch, hands clenched into tight fists, as Jared pushes his way up off the couch and stumbles towards the back of the apartment.

 

\-----

 

It was their fifth date when things went beyond awkward frottage and handjobs. Jensen came over fully expecting Jared to be bouncing and yammering about the movie they were supposed to see. The guy has an unnatural love of Bruce Willis, and Jensen has an equally unnatural love for the way Jared looks when he’s excited.

Except when he came in Jared was standing in the middle of the living room with an awkward look on his face and something clutched in one of those giant bear paws of his. Jensen took in the hesitance in his stance, the uncertainty in his eyes, and the way Jared sort of shifted before he raised an eyebrow and forced an unpleasant smile.

“Hi Jen.” It’s a nickname Jensen has had before, but he’d never liked it until now. Usually it referred to what he knows are the less masculine of his features, but with Jared it’s something affectionate.

Something utterly _Jared_.

“Hey Jay. Whatcha got there?” He’s always more Texas when these moments come up, and there was a darkening to Jared’s eyes that he didn’t miss.

“I-uh-I was just thinking-and that’s all up to you really because I know that-but there was this thing on TV that-and I was just hoping that you would-because this isn’t really my usual way of doing this but I-“ He shut himself up, huffed, and then held his hands out. The condom in the left, the bottle of lube in the right, and a flush on his sharp cheekbones. “Yeah.”

Jensen couldn’t help himself. He’s a bastard, and he knows it, but this was too precious for words. Instead he laughed, and Jared’s face went redder as his hands clutched the offered items and pulled them out of view. He turned on one heel, face tightening, and Jensen couldn’t let that happen. Couldn’t let him think that’s what this was about.

He crossed the room in just a few strides and pulled Jared’s arm so that the taller man was forced to turn and look at him. Texas had never been more in his accent than it was at that moment, cock half hard and laughter dying on his lips. “Sweetheart. You gotta say it or I’ll feel like I’m taking advantage of you.” It was teasing, and Jared could take it the wrong way, but he didn’t. Instead his lips curved and the dimples came out deep and pleasing.

“I was thinking you could fuck me, and we’d go to a later showing. You think you could do that?”

“I’m gonna ride you like a rodeo.” It was corny, redneck as hell, but Jared let out a little moan and that made it all worth it.

“Then mount up.”

It took too long to get back to Jared’s bedroom, and the only piece of furniture the guy owned that’s really big enough for him. Jensen had Jared pinned against the wall, one hand rubbing the straining erection Jared had under his jeans and the other tilting Jared’s head down and to the side so he could lick his way into Jared’s mouth.

The bed was right behind them, dominating the room, but Jensen wanted to enjoy this. Wanted to savor the taste and feel of Jared pressed against the wall making those little noises he loved so much to hear. He managed to get his hand back up and to the little button on Jared’s jeans before they were popping open and he was unzipping them.

Things took a turn, gentle to desperate, and Jared was fumbling with the fastenings on Jensen’s jeans even as Jensen started fighting with the buttons on Jared’s shirt. They grunted and bit their way through stripping, finally naked for the first time, and there was a sudden heavy silence as Jensen realized Jared was staring at the gun strapped to his ankle, and the scar all too visible on his stomach.

Jared’s hand shook as he dragged his fingers along it, and then he looked up and sent Jensen a question in his glance, lips pursed softly. Jensen shook his head once, undid the holster’s strap and left the gun on the pile of his clothes before he pulled Jared back in.

If he could just avoid that conversation a little longer, if he could just avoid having to tell Jared the lies, that’d be worth it. Just a little bit longer to be _them_ , and Jared gave it to him in the same sweet and unquestioning way he’d given him everything else.

He got Jared on all fours on the bed, and then fumbled the lube open before leaning in to lick a stripe up the back of one muscular thigh. Jared let out a breathy whine, and that was good. That was better than good. In fact it made Jensen wonder what other noises Jared could make, and he dropped the lube bottle in the interest of gripping the fleshy muscles of Jared’s ass cheeks and spreading them. He licked a line from Jared’s balls up over his hole, and the sound Jared made as he slumped face forward into the bed seemed almost pained. So Jensen did it again, and again, before he slid his tongue into the tight hole and worked it deeper.

“Jen-Jen, _Jesus please_.” Jared was shaking, trembling underneath him, and Jensen picked up the lube bottle and finished what he started with his fingers. It took everything he had not to come when he had to touch himself to put the condom on, but deep breaths and squeezing the base of his shaft gave him enough time to get himself together before he was lining up and entering.

Jared’s head jerked back, a thick and throaty sound escaping him, and Jensen couldn’t help it. He leaned forward and sank all the way in before growling into Jared’s ear. “Like that darlin’? Want a little more? How do you want it Jay? Hard and fast? Want me to fuck you raw and deep?” He jerked his hips hard once, twice, and then bit into Jared’s shoulder and soaked up the shocked cry. “Or you want it gentle and slow? Want me to treat you precious the way I know you are?” He mimicked the words with slow and gentle thrusts, tongue laving the bite and hands soothing along Jared’s sides.

“All-shit-all of it. Fucking all of you Jen.”

His hips stuttered, and then he kept moving. He couldn’t do that for Jared. Couldn’t give all of him because there was a big chunk of him that was locked away, but he could give some. Enough, he hoped, to keep Jared until the day that he could be honest.

They went to the movie the next day.

 

\------

 

He should leave. He knows he should leave, because this is all too much. There’s something going on here that he’s missed, and he’s about to blow his goddamn top. Instead he pushes his way up and follows Jared into the bedroom in time to watch the other man dry-swallow a painkiller and look up in surprise.

“Jensen you have to leave.”

There’s something sad in Jared’s voice, resignation and despair that Jensen has never heard there before. He _hates_ it instantly, and hates that there’s something about him that caused it. Every bit of pain he felt when Jared told him about Liam is forgotten in that primal urge he has to grab Jared up and cuddle him. Protect him from the world Jensen is a part of, the one he knows so well.

“I need a name Jared. I need to know who did that to you so I can fuck them up. I don’t know why you’re-“

Jared’s head falls, hand rubbing at his face hopelessly before he looks back up and reaches out. Big, well-known hands cup his face and Jared’s bleary and tired eyes, still beautiful, catch him and hold him in place. The cast rubs against his cheek as a bleak reminder of his failure.

“I don’t belong to you anymore Jensen. I’m not your responsibility and I’m not your concern. You gotta leave before someone starts telling tales out of school. Please. You gotta do this for me.”

And Jensen feels his heart clench so tight it hurts to breathe. Jared is right, he doesn’t belong to him anymore, but that doesn’t change his responsibility to Jared.

“Let ‘em talk. Just tell me what happened.”

Jared lets go then, stumbles back and away. “I fell. I fell funny and broke it. You know how clumsy I am after a good fucking.”

Rage will do him no good. It’s what Jared wants, he realizes belatedly, and he has to hold out. “I don’t know what I did to make you like this. To make you want to say this shit, but I’m here now Jay. I’ll help you, but you gotta tell me the truth. I just want to help you.”

“And people in hell want ice water. Go away Jensen. I need to sleep.”

Nothing else will come out of staying other than Jared eventually breaking his resolve to hold his temper, so Jensen leaves. Walks out on Jared for the third time, and leaves him alone in the little bedroom and the silent apartment, clutching his broken wrist to his chest and curled up, looking smaller than he has any right to look.

 

 

\-----

 

They’d been together a year before Jared broke the “I love you” barrier. The conversation began with:

“I would totally haunt you.”

The two of them are in bed, Jared wrapped around him in his usual manner, all long limbs and sweaty skin. Jensen was honestly exhausted. He’d done collections today, and having to lie to Jay about the bruise he got from the one rebellious shop-owner had hurt worse than the actual injury. He was so tired of lying. So the statement caught him more than a little off-guard.

“You’d-why the fuck are you thinking about that?”

Jared’s eyes are closed, head resting easily beside him and fingers starting to move slowly over Jensen’s exposed chest. “I was a boy scout. We believed in being prepared.”

“You were not a boy scout.”

“I saw them on TV. The point is if I died I’d totally haunt you. Like Swayze in _Ghost_. Gentle pottery sessions and soft music. It’d be really awesome and you’d be so glad I stuck around.”

“Swayze makes out with her through Whoopi Goldberg, Jay. I’m not making out with Whoopi Goldberg.”

Jared’s forehead wrinkled once before he started laughing. “You would if it was me. You’d miss me so much you’d make out with a dog if it was me.”

He felt his eyebrows threatening to break off and simply drift up to the ceiling. “A dog? Jay, you’re hot, but you ain’t that hot.”

The hand soothing his right pectoral slapped once softly and then settled into a rubbing motion again. “Don’t crush my dreams. It’s not nice. Hey Jen do you think I’m weird?”

“Yes.” The sound Jared made in response had him laughing. “Well, baby, look at it from my point of view. We’re in bed together, naked, and you’re thoroughly fucked-out, but you’re talking about me making out with dogs and ladies. That’s a little weird.”

Jared nodded balefully and then cracked one hazel eye. “But?”

And yeah, there was a but there. “But, I wouldn’t want you to be normal. I like all the weird shit that falls out of your mouth post orgasm.”

Silence rang out in the room for a little while, and then Jared closed the cracked eye and pressed his face against Jensen’s chest. “Yeah. I’d haunt the shit out of you. That’s how much I love you.”

Jensen froze in place, heart rate tripling, and then he pressed a kiss to Jared’s soft hair. “Yeah, well, I’d probably make out with Whoopi a little. That’s how much I love you.”

They settled in, and right before he fell asleep Jensen added, “But no goddamn dogs.”

 

\------

 

It’s time to meet Misha, and Jensen has to find a way to shut down the constant need to check on Jared. To not look into the matter further. He has a job to do, and that job has to come first. Whatever trouble Jared’s gotten himself into has to come second.

The apartment building isn’t nice, but it isn’t the worst thing he’s seen since he started doing this. He takes the stairs two at a time, feels the back of his pants for his piece, and then knocks once hard.

It doesn’t take long for the door to open, and Misha stares at him for a long time with those unnaturally blue eyes Jensen remembers before he steps aside and lets Jensen in. They cross a wide open space, and then Jensen stands while Misha sinks onto the couch and grins up at him.

“Did you bring your papers?”

“My-what the fuck are you talking about?”

The grin becomes Cheshire and slightly insane. “Papers. I’m a Russian and we’re big into papers.”

“Cut the shit Collins. You know why I’m here.”

The agent’s mouth loses some of its manic quality and becomes simply a friendly smile. “Yes. That’s right I know both the reasons you’re here. “

“So what’s the deal?” Jensen watches Misha’s eyes narrow thoughtfully and then he sighs. The guy has always been exasperating, but Jensen isn’t up for it right now. “What?”

“This is your last one isn’t it Ackles? Then you’re out for good?”

He thinks of a grassy plain, a man’s broad and proud face, and a car full of bullet holes. “Yeah. This is my last one and then I’m out. What about you?”

“Nope. I have another few dances left under my belt I’m afraid. How much do you need ahead of time?”

“Meet time and place, number of guys, merchandise, and where we can best plant the bugs. Are you in charge of the sweep?”

“I am not, but the guy doing it is worthless. I can direct him without him catching on. The rest of it I can’t give you until tomorrow. They’re being a little paranoid. To quote, ‘those wop bastards can’t be trusted.’ End quote.”

Jensen nods once and then looks out the big window at the sun shining brightly over the Boston cityscape. “What are the chances of a last minute change?”

“Zilch. Didn’t work out too well for the bosses last time. Plus I hear the cargo is too big for such a move. Transport guys are freaking out.”

“Well make sure you get me all the details as soon as possible. Also, Misha?”

Blue eyes sweep up to weigh him carefully before the man grins again. Less manic and more real. “Yes Jensen?”

“Don’t shoot at me this time. I’m serious dude, I don’t forgive twice.”


	2. Chapter 2

  
If Jensen could qualify in words how badly he wanted to keep Jared in his life then maybe Jared would still be curled against him on the couch in Jensen’s run-down little apartment. He’s never been a man who wielded pretty sentiments. His father taught him that it was important to speak plainly, to get at the truth, and to always be honorable in his dealings.

His father never imagined that Jensen would be a thug at thirty-three, with a number of robberies and assaults under his belt so voluminous no one thought to question Jensen’s commitment to the cause of organized crime. His father never imagined Jensen would sleep with a gun under his pillow and a scar on his belly that still ached late at night.

He’d never told Jared the story behind that particular scar. Never told his lover about the ache, but somehow Jared had known. Jensen would wake sometimes in the night, covered in sweat and panting like he’d run a marathon, and Jared’s hand would go automatically to the mark and soothe it. Sometimes Jared would press his lips against it, gentle and sweet, and Jensen thought it was a little like a benediction, and a lot like absolution.

When he’d come home to find Jared drunk and finally aware of the depths of Jensen’s sins that was honestly the moment Jensen thought Jared would leave him. He knew his boyfriend too well. Knew the depths of compassion and sweetness he was capable of, and how much he looked down on people who took advantage of the weak and wounded. It was one of the many things Jensen loved about Jared.

But after the initial fight, after a night of holding Jared and listening to his tearful pleas, Jensen had woken up with all six foot four of Jared still in his bed. They weren’t touching, there were none of the usual kisses or love exchanged, but he was still there. The wary look that settled into the corner of Jared’s eyes disturbed him, but he understood it. He could admit to putting it there, and he could take responsibility.

He had been made to promise that he would never bring it home, that he would never kill anyone, and most importantly that he would never hurt anyone who wasn’t a part of the life. Jensen made all of those promises except the middle one.

It took two months for Jared to do more than touch Jensen’s hand again, and when it happened it was subtle and sweet. Sitting on the couch in Jared’s apartment, _Enter the Dragon_ playing on the TV, Jared’s lips had pressed once against Jensen’s jaw. When he turned to look Jared was already back on his side of the couch, fists clenched tightly in his lap and face pointedly turned away. Still, it had happened, and Jensen was grateful. He’d take what he could get.

But the tension, it never really went away, and then one day it did. One day Jensen came to Jared’s apartment, and the taller man simply stared at him. The look was unreadable, a first for Jared who was always so open, and Jensen tried to pry it out of him but Jared wouldn’t budge. Instead they’d sat across from each other at the little table and eaten copious amounts of take-out. Jared’s hand kept straying out, brushing Jensen’s knuckles and pressing gently along the lines and ridges of his fingers.

Jensen, for his part, held perfectly still. He was a little afraid he’d spook Jared like this, break the spell that seemed to hang in the air between them. When dinner was finished and they had no better excuse Jensen figured it would follow the same pattern it always did. The slow edging out that Jared favored, and that Jensen was willing to live with. He honestly believed at the time that any little bit of Jared was better than none at all.

But when he stood up and glanced around before clearing his throat to say goodbye Jared grabbed his hand and shook his head. His eyes were wide, and suddenly Jensen could read some of it. Desperation, indecision, _fear_. He hated that. Hated being the one who put that look into Jared’s big, trusting eyes. Still he stood in one place and waited for the verdict.

“Stay Jen.” It wasn’t what he was expecting, and that must have shown on his face because Jared made a little noise and then stood and pulled Jensen into a kiss. Lips pressed against lips for the first time in what felt like forever, and Jensen wasn’t about to look this gift Jared in the mouth. Bad analogy.

He pressed harder, sweeping his tongue against Jared’s lower lip and gaining entry. It was like a dream. Jensen was being offered everything he’d lost, everything he’d betrayed, and he wasn’t going to lose it a second time.

They trailed clothes down the hall, Jensen pressing Jared against every flat surface on the way and making it a point to taste every inch of Jared’s skin. When they finally reached the bedroom all Jared had left was a sock, and Jensen was completely naked and hard enough to drive nails.

He pressed Jared into the bed and began to murmur against his boyfriend’s tanned skin as he fumbled with the lube bottle and got his fingers slick. “So beautiful-so good Jay-I’ll be so good for you sweetheart-“

Jared moaned low and deep in his chest, hips bucking when Jensen’s finger circled his entrance and then pressed inside. “I know. I know.”

One finger worked in slow, his thumb circling the rim around it as he licked a hot trail over Jared’s shoulder and against the graceful column of his neck. “So sorry baby. Sorry, but I’ll be good to you. Make it up to you.”

There was a hitched sound, and when Jensen looked up Jared’s eyes were full of tears and his sweet mouth was pulled into a tight line. “I know Jen.”

“Jay? Jared what’s-do you not want this?” His fingers stilled, but when he tried to pull the one that had made it inside out Jared clenched down on it.

“No.” There was a fire there now, burning behind the anguish and the tears. “Please Jen. _Please_.”

He felt like it was all slipping out of his grasp. Something was happening here, something was moving without him, and Jensen couldn’t even begin to guess what. He’d never been put into this position before, and he had no idea how to handle it. When Jared nipped his lower lip and shifted his finger deeper with a snap of his hips Jensen responded with a slow and sweet kiss and a second finger.

Three digits worked inside of Jared’s tight channel and his boyfriend had his head tilted back into the pillow, messy hair hanging into his eyes and mouth open on pleading moans. Jensen dipped down low, licked one hipbone and then placed sucking kisses along the line of Jared’s cock. He stroked his own erection with a lubed hand until he was properly prepared, and then pulled his fingers out. Jared’s eyes swept open, bright and shining in the lamplight of the bedroom, and then Jared gripped his own thighs and pulled his legs up towards his chest.

It was the best invitation Jensen had ever received. When he was sunk all the way in to the hilt, Jared surrounding and squeezing him, Jensen kissed the man underneath him again. Kissed him all through the first few tentative thrusts, and then set a slow and steady pace. He relieved Jared of the burden of his own legs, wrapped one around his waist and propped the over his shoulder.

Each push, each rhythmic pull of Jared’s ass around his cock reminded him what had almost happened. How close he’d come to losing this. His mouth moved without him, and he pressed his face against Jared’s neck so he wouldn’t see if the response was disbelief or disgust.

“I haven’t been a good man, and I know that, but baby you gotta believe me, I’m gonna make it up to you. I’m gonna fix all of it. I promise. Just stick with me Jay. Just don’t give up on me, ‘cause I love you and I’m gonna make it better.”

He heard a sob again, and then Jared was pushing back, thrusting upwards even as the heel he had pressed into Jensen’s ass pulled him in tight and hard.

The next day, when Jared told him he was leaving him for Pileggi’s son, Jensen would remember that moment and wonder. Jared had found the perfect way to send him off. Paid for Jensen’s forgiveness with his ass.

Jared’s eyes, wet and wide had taken in the tightly controlled rage in every line of Jensen’s body. He’d wanted to hit him, to beat the beautiful and pleading face, to end everything right there and then. Instead he’d stood from the kitchen table and grabbed his jacket. He was almost to the door when Jared had the gall to grab his wrist, and Jensen spun on one heel and drove a fist into Jared’s midsection. The younger man staggered back, hand against his stomach and mouth open in shock.

“Don’t touch me. Never touch me again. I don’t fuck around with whores.”

 

\----

 

Sandy wasn’t wrong. What had followed was a calculated attempt on Jensen’s part to make Jared so uncomfortable in his new relationship that he would run screaming. The crew was willing to work with him, mostly on principle, as long as Liam never figured out what exactly they were doing.

They’d made sure whoever was on that night had dropped one of the many words for whore as often as possible within Jared’s hearing, they refused to do anything other than polite gestures, and Jensen’s personal favorite at the time had been when he’d walked into the club Jared had been taken to with the world’s clingiest twink. The look in Jared’s eyes had been gratifying. At least, it had then, but now Jensen was starting to wonder.

He’d figured it was simple, that Jared was a simple case, and he’d put it all aside. All his reservations, all his doubts, anything that could have been considered a positive word about the man he’d spent two years with was tucked underneath that blinding rage and heartbreak. _Now_ though…

Now Jensen was starting to wonder what he’d missed. What had slipped past his notice while he was so involved in his own heartbreak. It wasn’t that Jared was unhappy, because of course he was, it was that Jared was hurt and terrified. That he was lashing out on a regular basis to keep Jensen at a distance, and that didn’t make much sense at all.

Even if he could believe that Jared was the type of guy to whore around for position or money, and that was starting to come into question, the guy wasn’t actively malicious. Didn’t have a mean bone in his body really, and Jensen had _known_ that once upon a time. Sandy and Chad knew something, but they were loyal to Jared. Jensen needed someone who wouldn’t be ready to keep the younger man’s secrets. Someone who would sympathize with him.

Which was how he found himself using valuable planning time for a meet at Sterling’s house, sipping his beer as Sterling’s wife sniffled and offered him more snack food.

“No thanks ma’am. I’m really alright. I just need to talk to Sterling.”

She gave him a knowing look before placing a kiss on her husband’s bald pate and stepping out of the room. Jensen wondered how long she’d known her hubby was in the life, and how she reconciled that. It was something he’d considered more than once when he thought about telling Jared half of the truth.

“So what’d you need Jensen?” Sterling’s eyes roamed over the game on TV once before landing on him.

“I was wondering who broke Jared’s wrist.” It wasn’t a question, and from the suddenly tight look on Sterling’s face it didn’t need to be.

“Jensen I don’t think-“

“I just want to know Sterling. If Liam has already taken-“ and then all the breath went out of him, because that was pity on Sterling’s face. It wasn’t pity that Jensen had expected.

In the five years he’d been in the Pileggi organization Jensen had learned a lot of lessons. The first, and most important for his sanity, was that criminals had two faces, and both of those faces were real and honest. It should have been a contradiction, he’d believed it was for the longest time, but Jared had taught him differently.

Hands that had become devoted to hurting, to scaring, had been able to hold Jared’s angular face gently. Fingers that had pulled countless triggers could stroke moles so softly Jared would complain of tickling even as he beamed. Jensen had been able to come home from a particularly hard job, wash the blood off, and then smile and joke with Jared like nothing had happened. Because when he was on the job that was Jensen the Enforcer, but when he was at home he was just a man who was helplessly in love with a big kid.

The look Sterling was giving him now reminded him of all of that, even as the man’s voice began to shatter the rest of his delusions. “I know it’s hard on you Jensen. Shit, it would kill me, but you didn’t ask Pileggi for retribution and now the time for it has passed. You’ve got to let him go.”

_Retribution_. It hadn’t occurred to Jensen to ask for it, because as far as he knew it didn’t qualify. Occasional mindless violence aside they weren’t a gang. The big difference being that a mob was all about money and family. They were the two sacred creeds, and you never messed with either. A man with a family that was respected by his boss was a man with something to protect, and something to lose. A family made you stable, and it made you vulnerable.

 In a well-organized mob it was understood that a happy significant other was one who wasn’t going to turn state’s evidence. To that end if they wanted to leave then you let them leave. If it looked like they’d turn snitch then that would be dealt with, but in the meantime you never pissed off a partner. Asking Pileggi for retribution in this case would have been pointless because Jared had decided to leave Jensen of his own free will. It had nothing to do with the other man being Pileggi’s son. The Don wasn’t interested in nepotism, and he’d proven that by given his feckless offspring no responsibility or duty beyond looking good and not besmirching the family name.

Retribution would only have been available if Liam had lobbied for Jared. If Liam had tried to take Jared away, or had done so by force.

“Why did Jared hook up with Liam? What aren’t you telling me?”

The look of pity turned into one of confusion. “What are you talking about? Jensen I thought everybody knew.”

He had to bite down on his anger, and then while his hand clenched and unclenched he forced himself to meet Sterling’s eyes and keep his gaze steady. “Well I’m not everybody, and apparently everybody didn’t see fit to tell me. What exactly is it I’m out of the loop on?”

“Liam pushed your boy to leave. I don’t know what he said, but I took him over to your boy’s apartment more than once, and the last time I did Liam came out looking very pleased with himself. That was two days before you two broke up and Jared officially became Liam’s. I could hear shouting, but I really don’t know how he did it man. I’m sorry. I _thought_ you knew.”

“If everybody knew why the fuck did they help me make him so miserable?”

Sterling lifts his eyebrow and settles back into his chair. “You don’t have the most pleasant of reputations. We all figured you kind of hated the kid for folding.”

Jensen’s blood had apparently been replaced with ice water. “Who broke Jared’s wrist?”

Sterling looked away for all of two seconds before his eyes settled back on Jensen’s face. “You know who broke it Jensen. You know, and you know that there’s nothing you can do about it. You have to let him go now. For your own sake.”

Except that wasn’t really an option. Because Jensen had brought Jared into this, had introduced him to Liam, and had made him vulnerable. Then, when Jared needed him most, Jensen had let himself be blinded by his broken heart and his wounded pride. Jensen had fed Jared to the wolves.

 

\---

 

When he was fourteen Jensen was sure that the world ran on nothing but baseball and Lucas Reinhold. His first crush was their catcher, and the two of them had kissed the day before behind the bleachers. It hadn’t been Jensen’s first kiss, but it _was_ his first boy. He wasn’t sure yet if he’d tell his parents, and that particular problem was all he was thinking about when he came home.

So seeing his aunt standing on the front porch waiting for him didn’t immediately set off any alarms. After all, she liked to visit his mom on a pretty regular basis, and she usually didn’t schedule those visits. It wasn’t until he was halfway up the steps that her red, wet eyes caught his attention, and Jensen dropped his glove and sprinted the rest of the way to her.

The story was simple. Jensen was a logical kid who grew into a fairly rational man, and he could follow it without much trouble. His parents had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. A mob hit, someone so controversial they had to be taken halfway across the country before they could be executed and dumped into the Gulf of Mexico.

His father had died at the scene, but his mother had lived through the trip to the hospital. She died two days later. She never woke up. It would be years before Jensen was allowed to see the pictures of the crime scene, the car riddled with bullets, the blood splatters. What he did see was his mother’s pale face, the bandage applied over the hole in her skull, and the way her hand seemed to be made of china. The hand that had wiped his tears away when he was little and still prone to crying, the one that had always fussed with his hair before important events, and the one that just that morning had stroked his cheek and adjusted his glasses before sending him off to practice.

At fourteen Jensen was an orphan, and his aunt tearfully took him in. He changed after that. Became quiet in a way that unsettled his classmates, had odd moments of violence, and most importantly he got rid of Lucas. Connections, love, any sort of emotion really made you vulnerable, and Jensen Ackles could no longer be vulnerable.

At sixteen he spent several months in juvie. One too many fights for the local authorities to ignore, and his aunt tearful again as they locked him in and told him it was for his own good. An extra three months for a fight inside that resulted in the other kid losing two teeth and getting his jaw wired shut.

He was eighteen when his godfather showed up from Boston and set an ultimatum. He could get his shit straight and come to Boston to be something, or he could devolve into the very sort of animal that killed his parents.

Jensen’s father had been a good man. An engineer, volunteer in the community, deacon at their church. His mother baked cookies, taught at the elementary school, and loved her family more than anything in the world. They’d taught Jensen that the first and most important aspect of living was doing it right. Making your impact on the world be something that you could be proud of, and being a force for others to look to. Every interaction, his father would say, meant something. Everyone, whether they recognized it or not, could be changed and influenced in a moment by the people around them. Jensen’s father had believed that the whole world could be made better by tiny positive interactions, and when he was a boy Jensen had believed the same thing.

But at eighteen, with a track record that no one would be proud of and two headstones he visited every year Jensen believed something a little different. Jensen believed that it only took a second to destroy someone’s world, but that a lifetime wasn’t enough to return that level of suffering.

So he accepted his godfather’s offer, and he moved with Jeff to Boston. Then he got started on that lifetime.

 

\---

 

When he got to the apartment the door was cracked, and Jensen heard raised voices somewhere deeper inside. He pulled his gun on instinct, flipped the safety off and rested his finger outside of the trigger guard even as he eased his way inside. The first, and loudest, voice resolved itself into the ever annoying Chad Michael Murray.

“-leave! My dad said he’d pay for you to take a vacation Jay. Anywhere, you name it and you can go. Hell, take off back to Texas and gather cattle or whatever it is you shitkickers do. Anything but staying here, because the way this is going you’re going to get seriously hurt. He broke your goddamn arm!”

Jared’s voice is softer, slightly fuzzy, and Jensen imagines he’s taken a painkiller or two already. “You know I can’t Chad. You know I need-“

“Fuck Ackles! Fuck him and the rest of them! Why do you have to protect him when the fucker obviously doesn’t give two shits about you?”

“Because he’s a good guy Chad. You don’t understand. You don’t know what I said to him or-“

There is the sound of something crashing, a loud grunt, and then Chad’s voice angrier and harder than Jensen has ever heard it before. Gone is the flippant asshole, gone is all manner of joking. In its place is something desperate and hard. Jensen has heard that voice before, but it usually came at the wrong end of a gun.

“I don’t give two shits if the guy is a cop. Fuck his whole sting operation or whatever it’s called. It’s not worth your _life_ Jay. It’s not worth your life if he can’t even be bothered to recognize you wouldn’t-”

But Jensen has heard enough. There should have been no way that Jared would know that. Five years of being undercover with the organization, three years of pretending in jail, and even the men he was supposedly a brother to have no idea what he really is. None of them know that a gold shield is waiting for him on the other side of all of this. None of them know where he’d really gotten his scar.

Jensen pushes through the bedroom door and takes in the two of them, Jared pressed against the wall by Chad with his broken wrist in between them and a look of anguish on his face. Chad’s mouth is twisted in fury and eyes narrowed down to slits. Jensen re-engages the safety on his gun and then levels his gaze on Chad. “Get out.”

In seconds the slighter man has let go of Jared in favor of coming at Jensen, and he easily deflects both blows before grabbing Chad’s arm and twisting it up behind his back in one smooth motion. Chad lets out a cry and Jared holds out both hands in an attempt to beg or placate. Jensen doesn’t know and he doesn’t care.

“Fuck you motherfucker! Fuck you! You left him to this! It’s your fault that he-“

Chad rants all the way to the door, and then goes silent when Jensen gives his wrist a hard twist before pushing him out of the door. They stare at each other for a long time, and then Jensen clears his throat and points down the hall. “I know what I did. I’m going to fix it. Leave.”

With that Jensen shuts the door in Chad’s face and then turns around to find Jared standing in the short hallway, clutching a doorframe and looking so pale and fragile it’s hard to remember that he is incredibly tall and ripped.

“Jensen you shouldn’t-“

“Tell me I shouldn’t be here and I’ll start throwin’ shit sweetheart.” The place isn’t big, and it takes seconds for him to reach Jared and gently cup his chin. “What the fuck did you do Jay?”

For a moment defiance wars with something darker and deeper, and then the up-turned hazel eyes he’d fallen in love with fill with tears and Jared’s head slumps into his touch. “I didn’t want you to know.”

“Didn’t want me to know what, Jay? What crazy fucking ideas been going through that head of yours?”

Jared takes one deep breath, another, and then pulls back and rubs at his face. “Liam came here.” He sounds dead and buried, and Jensen fights the urge to reach out for him. “He kept hitting on me, and I kept saying no. I thought he’d get the picture, but one day he showed up with this envelope. Had a picture of you on your graduation day. In uniform.”

He doesn’t need Jared to go on. Jensen knows where this story is going. Can picture in his head Jared standing in the shabby little living room with a photo of him in blue as Liam gives him an ultimatum. A threat that Jared, stupid, gorgeous, big-hearted Jared, couldn’t deny.

“He said you were undercover. That he’d expose you if I didn’t agree. That you’d-that Pileggi would kill you even if all you were was two-bit muscle with no real information.”

And Liam _would_ think that. He has no idea how his father’s business is run, or how important Jensen has become. His playboy bullshit has kept him out of the loop for so long that it isn’t surprising his father hasn’t told him about the weapons deal that is coming up, or how lowly Jensen Ackles was in charge of security for it. Which meant Liam has no idea how much danger his father’s business, and his legacy, is currently in.

The only question is how Liam figured it out when his paranoid father has never even gotten a whiff.

“So I agreed.” Then Jared’s face turns up, and Jensen can see how haggard and pale it is. The desperation and fear there, and if it was feasible he’d take himself out back and put a bullet in his fucking brain for putting it there. For putting Jared in this position, and then not backing him or taking care of him. Then Jared finishes breaking his heart. “And I’m so sorry, Jen. So sorry for hurting you and lying to you, but I needed you to back off. I needed you to be safe, and you weren’t gonna let it go. I just had to be sure you’d be safe.”

And Jensen had been safe. Wrapped up in his grief and anger he’d been as safe as this life could be while Jared was being hurt, being forced to-

The time in between Jared apologizing and Jared grabbing desperately at his forearm is lost to Jensen, but the hole in the wall and the blood smeared across his knuckles tells its own story. He can hear the sound coming from his own mouth, the howl of rage and anguish, and Jared wraps him up and presses him close making the oddest soothing noises Jensen has ever heard. He doesn’t understand, can’t comprehend how this man is willing to touch him after Jensen had basically offered his lover up on a platter. Had let him be raped, beaten, humiliated and all because Jensen was too stupid and willful to see the truth.

Jensen remembers his father’s admonitions, about how tiny little interactions could become life-changing moments, and all of it comes to this moment. He’s been so consumed, so interested in the job, that he’s missed what was right in front of him. How he’d turned Jared, twisted him, and then left him.

“Why? Why would you do this to yourself?” Underneath his face Jared’s chest shifts once, and then the heartbeat he can feel against his cheek slows just a little.

“Because you told me the truth. You’re a good guy, and you were in trouble. Because I love you Jen.”

Of course. _Of fucking course_.

He pulls back and thumbs Jared’s sharp cheekbone once before collecting himself. He has to have it together. He has to _fix_ this. “Chad’s right. You’re gonna pack your shit and take a trip sweetheart. You’re getting out of this goddamn city tonight.”

Defiance comes up again, and Jensen curses at it even as he pulls back and away from Jared’s hold. He isn’t willing to listen to the self-sacrificing arguments. Jared is leaving, tonight, and Jensen won’t hear anything different. He storms his way into Jared’s bedroom, grabs a duffel from the tiny closet, and starts throwing clothes in. He can hear Jared breathing behind him. “Jen I can’t-“

“Yes. You can. Where the fuck are Harley and Sadie?”

“Liam didn’t-they’re staying with Chad. Jensen if I leave-“

“ _When_ you leave darlin’. _When_ you leave.”

“I’m not. I’m not, because you know he can do it. He can expose you.”

“Let him.” It’s a growl, much harsher than he intended, but there nonetheless. “I don’t give two shits. You’re getting out of here and you’re gonna be safe. That’s priority one, and my safety comes second. No more of this sacrificial lamb bullshit Jay you’re gone as of now.”

“Jensen you’re not listening to me. This is my choice. I made it and I’m going to stick with it so that-“

He drops the sneaker he’d been stuffing into the mess of clothes and personal items and turns to see the panicked look on Jared’s face. “So that what? I get another day of not being outted while you let that lyin’ swindlin’ bastard touch you? Hurt you? I can’t live with that Jay. Sure, you saved my ass, but you didn’t think of the rest of it. How you think that makes me feel? Knowin’ what I know now about how you been hurting? I can’t live with it Jay. I can’t.” He steps forward and covers Jared’s mouth before he can argue. “I _love_ you. Too much to see you being treated this way. I fucked up, and I can’t apologize enough for that, but I can do this. I got two or three more days before the big bust and then I’m out Jay. In the meantime I can’t do my job knowing that you’re-“ His voice betrays him, craps out mid-sentence, and all he can do is stare into those big and soft eyes and hope Jared understands the message he is trying to convey.

“You’ll go to a bar downtown tonight called Pieces. It’s on the East side. The bartender is a shorter dude, stocky, longish blonde hair. You tell him who you are. He’s gonna get you outta here Jay. No more arguments sweetheart. Promise me.”

Shaggy hair dips down for half a second before Jared lifts his head and meets Jensen’s gaze seriously. “I can’t leave you to- you know what they’ll do Jen. You know.”

“Yeah. I know. And it would be better than losing you to him. Than letting you get hurt.” His hand disobeys his brain and reaches out to cup Jared’s face, tilt it up so that he can look into the multi-colored eyes. “I was a real asshole Jared, and I can’t make up for that, but I can do this. Let me do this.”

And then Jared is surging forward, lips pressed to Jensen’s and one hand tangling in the short hair at the base of his skull while the other presses against him and the cast attached to it rubs heavily. It’s bittersweet, the pain that’s encapsulated all this time apart mixed with the sweetness and bliss that defined the beginning of their relationship.

Jensen should break it off, move away from him and get the space necessary to convince Jared that leaving is his only option before something worse happens to him. He _should_ , but he can’t. This is his last chance at having this, at being with the man he loves, and there’s no way he’ll waste it.

Jared pulls back just enough to breathe across Jensen’s slick lips, to mutter low and soft. “I forgive you. I love you too Jensen. Come with me if I leave?”

It’s not really something he should be proud of, but at this point lying to Jared is a bit second nature.

“Okay. If you promise to go I’ll follow.”

From there it’s a short trip to the bedroom. They’re all hands and mouths, Jared’s tongue finding its way past Jensen’s lips and those big hands traveling every inch of him and making short work of his shirt. Jensen has to slow him, respond to his desperation with gentleness and sweetness.

He takes his time pulling Jared’s shirt off, is as careful of the cast as he can be, and at the sight of fading bruises on Jared’s torso Jensen sucks in a breath and bites down his rage. Jared cries out once, pain and pleasure when Jensen kisses one spot softly and then brushes his fingers up Jared’s sides.

“I’m sorry sweetheart. It doesn’t look like there’s a way to do this without hurting you.” His hands stall out on the button of Jared’s jeans, and his mouth is pressed against a patch of unblemished skin just underneath his navel.

“Don’t care – Jen, please, I don’t care. You gotta, you gotta do something. I’ve been wanting this for too long.”

And that’s enough. That breaks what last bit of control he had and he unbuttons Jared’s jeans and pulls them and his boxers down in one practiced move. It’s too easy, too familiar, and everything that follows stretches out in front of him like hometown terrain. Jensen mouths his way from Jared’s navel, along the sharp v-cut of his hips, and circles the ultimate prize.

Jared’s already half-hard, thighs trembling under Jensen’s hands as he moans and squirms. Long fingers tangle in the sheets, and Jensen reaches up and entwines their fingers before licking a slow stripe along the length of Jared’s cock. It tastes just right, smells just the way he remembered, and Jared lets out the same whimper he always did when the real action started.

“Jensen don’t – Jesus, don’t tease.”

But that’s the point. Everything he hasn’t been able to do for the last few months, everything he’ll miss in however long he has left, and whatever comes after, has to be done now. Tonight.

“Shhh, sweetheart I got you. I’m gonna take care of you.” His tongue traces patterns along the velvety skin, soaks in the taste of Jared’s shaft before he flattens it at the head and seeps up the salty precome waiting for him there. Jared’s mouth is open, moans pouring out as he tries not to buck up into Jensen’s mouth despite how overwhelming the urge obviously is.

Jensen slips his fingers from Jared’s and then hooks his hands under the muscled thighs to lift them up easily. He settles them over his shoulders and then licks his way over Jared’s balls, nuzzles once before sucking some of the skin in softly and playing with it. Jared’s gasping now, hips moving in tight little motions as his legs twitch on Jensen’s shoulders.

From there it’s a slow trip, down and over the perineum until Jensen’s pushing Jared up higher to dip his tongue against the furled entrance. Jared tastes just right, musky and earthy, and Jensen alternates flattening his tongue against Jared’s hole and circling just the tip along the muscle.

“Holy shit – Jen, Jen oh my god. Jensen _please_.”

He doesn’t pull back, keeps his lips pressed against Jared’s hole when he speaks.

“Please what baby? What do you want me to do?”

“Eat – eat me out.” He can hear the blush, looks up to see the flush of blood in Jared’s chest as he tries to cover his face with his cast. It’s always been one of Jensen’s favorite things to do but half the fun is having Jared say it.

He goes for broke, the shamed lust in Jared’s voice so perfect it deserves a reward, and Jensen lets his hands slip down to part Jared’s cheeks fully so that he can bury his face in. His tongue dances along the rim, one thumb stretching to add random spots of pressure as he licks at it.

Jared is gasping and moaning, his fingers buried in Jensen’s hair as his cock bobs hard and full above Jensen’s head.

For his own part Jensen is already hard enough to pound nails, more than ready to sink deep into the tight hole that his tongue is trying to get into, but this is about more than getting off.

That’s hard to remember in the moment though.

Muscle fights his entrance, but Jensen hooks his thumb as gently as he can and pulls slightly so that he can get his tongue past the first ring. He presses his mouth tight against the hole and spears his tongue in and out, mimicking what his cock will soon be doing as Jared cries out above him.

“Fuck, fuck, Jensen please. Please fu-fuck me with-fuck me with your tongue. Harder!”

And he complies, speeds up the rhythm and works his tongue faster and deeper and Jared starts to relax against his mouth. When he’s gotten loose enough Jensen works a finger into the spit slick hole and moves it beside his tongue. Jared is clamping down on him, heels digging into Jensen’s back as he humps down onto the tongue and digit combination.

“Jensen I’m – oh fuck I’m gonna come just from –“

But he can’t. It has to last longer. Jensen pulls his tongue from Jared’s hole, slides the finger out slow and careful, and then slithers back on his knees to grip Jared’s ankles and lift them. He starts at the knob of bone on the left, and then begins a long and torturous route of kisses up Jared’s calf and towards his groin.

It’s supposed to be something special, something gentle, but when Jensen looks up from the beginning of his descent down Jared’s right leg he sees tears in Jared’s eyes.

“Jay? Jared am I hurting you?” It’s hard to ask, to work past the sudden lump in his throat, and Jared shakes his head before reaching out with grabby hands and gesturing Jensen in.

He settles between the v of Jared’s legs, cock still hard despite his concern, and is surprised when Jared presses lube he must have gotten from their under the mattress stash before meeting Jensen’s eyes.

“Please.”

There’s nothing else. No context and no real request, but Jensen doesn’t need one. He knows what it means.

Jensen squirts lube into his palm before slicking his shaft and gripping the base tight to angle the head of his dick against Jared’s entrance still loose and slick with spit.

He should say something. Tell Jared how much it means to have this again, to be allowed inside despite all the damage he’s done and the pain he’s caused. Maybe he could extol the virtues of the younger man beneath him, explain to Jared that since the day his parents died he’s never loved anything until the day he walked into that vet’s office and saw Jared’s smile.

If Jensen was feeling like being particularly vulnerable he could tell Jared that being with him, holding his hand, was the only time he forgot what it was like to sit in the laundry room of the prison he’d been incarcerated in for his cover and hold the little shank, consider his options, before slicing his own stomach open to give himself credibility.

But all of it is meaningless. At this point words have only brought them trouble, and Jared knows how he feels. Has preserved their love even as Jensen denigrated and twisted it. Kept it safe for the two of them so that when the time was right they could come right back here to Jared’s bed and live in it again for just a little while.

He sinks in slow, holding himself so that the tightness of Jared doesn’t end this too soon, and uses his free hand to pull Jared’s face so that he can look directly into his eyes. Jared is still crying softly, never a pretty sight but wholly endearing even in this moment, and Jensen thinks he gets it.

“I’m sorry Jay. I’m sorry this is how it is.”

“But you’re – I’m yours and you’re mine again, right? Right Jensen?”

He presses his forehead against Jared’s and pushes all the way in until his balls are resting against the hot skin of Jared’s ass and his hand is buried completely in Jared’s hair.

“That’s the way it’s always been sweetheart. Always been and always will.”

And it’s true. Even when he hated Jared he loved him, and there’s never been a time when he didn’t want him. When he didn’t long for this particular brand of closeness. If it all goes down tomorrow the way it’s supposed to by some minor miracle then Jensen can have this. He can keep Jared safe in the circle of his arms and forget the past for once.

But more likely this is it, and Jensen doesn’t plan on wasting it. Jared will have a life. He’ll find someone who’s honest and kind, and be happy. That’s what Jensen wants for him, and that’s the best he can offer. A goodbye that won’t break Jared’s heart completely.

They move together, Jared’s legs wrapping around him and his back arching as Jensen sets the pace the way Jared always preferred, deep and steady. He knows the angle to reach Jared’s prostate, the right way to stroke Jared’s thigh to ramp him up, and all the places he can kiss to make the younger man crazy.

Nibbles along his collarbone, wet sucking kisses over the length of his neck, and steady reassurances that he loves Jared, that he’s never wanted anyone this much, and that he will never let go.

Jared’s hands scrabble at his back, grab onto his ass and pull him in deeper to speed him up, and Jensen loves it, loves how easy it is, how natural to have Jared coming undone in his hands. The sounds he makes push Jensen over the edge, sudden and unexpected, and Jensen rides it out and jerks Jared off as fast as he can so that the end of his orgasm is the beginning of Jared’s.

It’s a perfect cycle.

Jensen can’t drive Jared to the bar, can’t risk it this close to the event, and he has to be as careful as he possibly can. He’s already doomed himself one way.

So he writes a note, simple, easy, reminding Jared of where he’s supposed to go and who he’s supposed to find, and adds the fake promise that he’ll come after Jared.

Because lying really is easy these days. Because Jensen is a liar.

 

\----

 

Mike shifts nervously from one foot to the other, eyes focused on the door and hands shoved in his pockets.

“What’s taking them so fucking long?”

This is the last time Jensen will stand around with his crew. The last time he’ll be forced to smile and nod like this is all normal and alright.

Like they aren’t monsters, and like he doesn’t belong with each of them.

Sterling comes around the corner and gives the signal, and Jensen takes it and heads through the door of the warehouse and into the main event. Misha is standing beside his bosses, eyes squinty and overly serious as he surveys the layout and doesn’t bother to even try to give Jensen a signal.

Which is the actual signal Jensen is pretty sure.  
Jensen waits, and when Mitch comes in and steps beside him that’s the last piece, and the puzzle is complete. Which means Liam hasn’t told him shit, and Jensen isn’t sure if he should be grateful or not. It feels like the axe is hovering over his head.

“You have all of it?”

Abram nods carefully and considers Mitch for a moment before speaking.

“If you have the money.”

His fake boss’s grin turns feral. “Always.”

Misha shifts then, catches Jensen’s eyes, and there’s the slightest quirk of his brow. Nothing that would be noticed by anyone who wasn’t sitting on the insanely paranoid side of hyper-aware. Jensen catches it though, and he drops so quickly the cement floor of the warehouse bruises his knees and rips his palms open.

And then the world explodes in gunfire, and Jensen is keeping low and moving as fast as he can. This is not to plan, nothing they could have forseen, and Jensen knows that the time has come. He fingers open his cell as he keeps low and moves behind crates, hits the speed dial button, and says one word into the phone.

“Dallas.”

It’s his officer safe word, the one he’s only supposed to say if things get so fucked there’s no turning around, and this is that moment. The sting wasn’t supposed to start for another fifteen minutes, long enough for them to inspect the shipment of guns and then agree to the deal. Everyone is in place, he knows that, but this isn’t a simple bust anymore.

This is a shoot out.

Mike collapses beside him, hand pressed over his stomach and blood blooming under his fingers. “Shit. Shit. Fucking trigger happy, back-stabbing, Ruskie bastards.”

And Jensen more than agrees. His own gun is in his hand, reflex instead of decision, and the sound in the warehouse is defeaning, gunpowder smell overwhelming as the two groups fire on each other.

He needs to stay low, stay here, because when the team comes in there’s going to be a lot more firepower going off, and Jensen knows better than to get in the middle of it. Except without the deal going down there’s no conviction, and that means his dead parents and all the sacrifices he’s made up until this point are moot in the face of Pileggi walking again. It’s too tenuous, and the slippery bastard has walked too many times before.

Jensen nods at Mike’s stomach, “They got you down for the count man. Where’s Mitch? I’ll get him.”

Mike’s eyes are grateful as he presses his stomach harder. “Yeah, ok. He ducked two stacks over. Just-Jesus this fucking hurts- just make sure you get him.”

“Yeah. I’ll get him.”

Jensen scans the layout. Across from him Misha is firing badly, trying to keep cover without actually hitting anyone. They lock eyes for half a second, and from the intense stare Jensen guesses that Misha knows what’s about to happen.

There’s a warning there, something his fellow officer is trying to convey to him, but it’s already moving. A domino effect that started that day with Jensen’s glove in his hand and has just now come to the grand finale. Jensen stays low, moves fast, and there’s a line of fire that blooms across his back before he comes crashing down behind the crates.

Mitch is there, steely eyes narrowed as he reloads his gun. He turns to Jensen and smiles, sharp and predatory, and then slams the clip into place.

“Glad to have you son. Time to-“

It’s like being outside of his body. Jensen can see the whole thing with a clarity that the world has only possessed when he’s with Jared. Mitch is there in front of him, smile dying and body tightening as Jensen lifts his gun and points.

“This for what my son did? ‘Cause I’ll be honest boy, I don’t have any responsibility for what my son’s dick touches.”

His finger brushes the trigger, solid metal comforting and familiar, and there it is. The moment, balanced on the edge, when Jensen can fall or fly if he can just find the right words to mobilize his own goddamn hand.

“No. You’ll never know what this was for.”

And then he pulls the trigger, and everything is over.

There’s still the sounds going off around him, the explosive rounds as Pileggi’s men share bullets with the Russians, and then the targeted charges that signal Jensen’s team breaking in. He can hear the shouting, the bullhorn announcing the presence of the authorities, and the sudden upsurge in gunfire.

When it finally goes quiet a flak-jacketed officer comes around the side of the crate and scans the scene before pulling the helmet off.

“Jenny? You ok man?”

Chris. It’s Chris. Jensen closes his eyes and the world goes dark.

 

\----

 

Words fly past him, and they’re probably important but god only knows why. He got hit, they say something about him needing blood, and then he goes back to sleep.

Jensen wakes up again to a hospital bed. He’s on his side, IV planted firmly in one arm and Chris slumped in the chair in front of him with his feet propped up on Jensen’s bed right next to his face.

“Get your muddy fucking boots off my pillow.”

Chris flies forward, eyes wide and bright before they crinkle into laughter.

“That would be your first words you cranky bastard. You gave everybody quite the scare. Why’d you go through with this fucking thing if your cover was blown?”

“What-what are you talking about?” Jensen tries to sit up, but the pain that lances through his back is too intense.

The blue becomes somber, serious, and then Chris leans in close enough that Jensen can smell the lingering traces of the coffee he must have last had and a little bit of whiskey.

“Events are getting pieced together pretty haphazardly Jenny, but it’s been decided that Pileggi’s boy outted you, and Pileggi turned on you during the sting. You must of shot him in self-defense.”

Jensen sighs, slumps back down into the mattress and feels the overly starched linens against his skin as he closes his eyes. It’s a fucking miracle. He gets his revenge, he gets his badge, and he gets Jared. Jared saved his future, and Jensen can pay him back now.

“Where’d you end up putting my boy? I’m surprised he didn’t come with you so he could berate me.”

The silence goes on too long, leaves Jensen cold and exposed, and when he opens his eyes Chris is staring at him in horror.

“Jensen what-what are you talking about?”

“Jared came to you to-he was- how did you know about Pileggi’s kid and me?”

“Your boy-I guess he’s your boy again- he called me. Said you told him to tell me you were in danger of being exposed, but by then you’d confirmed the bust and we didn’t want to risk anything in case the info was wrong. Where was I supposed to be putting him?”

It takes fifteen minutes to talk Chris into letting Jensen out of the hospital bed, and another precious twenty to get him to help Jensen sneak out of the building entirely.

Which is the last time there’s any constraint, because Chris breaks every traffic law he can including a minor hit and run with a parked car getting them across town and to Jared’s apartment before any more time passes.

Except the door is open. The door is open and the chain is broken, the place trashed beyond all measure, and blood everywhere.

Chris reaches to hold Jensen up but he can’t be touched, can’t be supported, and his heavy feet seem intent on making as much noise as possible while he lumbers across the space and towards the bedroom he made love to Jared in the night before.

And there he is. Beautiful face swollen, smeared with blood, and eyes closed. Still and peaceful. Sweet.

Everything Jensen ever believed he wanted was in his hands, and now it’s all ashes. Dreams crumbled, hope destroyed, and he steps forward ignoring Chris’s call and stumbles over some heavy thing in the middle of the floor.

Jensen looks down, and his eyes settle on the too still body of Liam Pileggi, butcher knife buried in his sternum and face twisted in rage. His eyes move up from the corpse, land on Jared again, and there it is. The tiniest of movements, chest hitching on shallow little breaths, and then Jensen is a hurricane of movement.

They call it in, Chris pulling rank in the face of Jensen’s desperation, and however long it takes the ambulance, because Jensen’s rationally sure it’s not an eternity, he spends holding Jared in his arms and talking to him.

“Hey sweetheart, hey, you did a good job, a good goddamn job. But you ain’t done yet. You hear me? You ain’t done. You gotta come back so you can tell me I ruined your life and you never want to see me again. Stay with me Jared, stay with me so you can leave me baby. Please. Please, oh god please. Please don’t leave me like this.”

 

\----

 

A grand total of fifty-eight stitches, Jared is short blood and badly injured, but they have hope. The gut wound, the most troubling of the ones that Liam dealt him before Jared turned the knife on him, managed to miss knicking the intestines and as a result Jared skirted septic shock and a quick death by millimeters.

On the other hand he’s badly scarred. Hasn’t woken up, and Jensen is banned from seeing him. There’s paperwork to take up his time. Official inquests galore, and when Jeff hands him his badge Jensen accepts it quietly and with little fanfare. Danni and Chris try to get him to live a little, to perk up, but all he can do is wait and wonder.

Days pass, weeks, and then Jensen is finally told something. Jared is awake. He has not asked for Jensen. He learns this from Sandy, because Chad’s only conversation was to throw a punch Jensen didn’t bother to block.

And that’s how he finds himself standing outside of Jared’s hospital room door after hours with flowers in one hand and his eyes searching for roving nurses who will catch him breaking visitor’s hours rules and throw him out.

Logically, this will end badly. Jensen knows it. He had a chance. A chance to do the right thing, to spread good, and instead he abandoned Jared one last time and left him to become a killer. The gentle giant that Jensen fell in love with has murdered a man, and while Jensen would argue every second of the rest of his life, and find no counter arguments he’s sure, that Liam deserved it that doesn’t change the facts.

This is what his dad should have taught him. What he thought he’d learned that day when they were gunned down in their car. Violence builds on violence until there’s nowhere else to go and nothing to do. The end game of vengeance is ruin.

Someone once said before you embark on a journey of revenge you should dig two graves, one for your enemy and one for yourself.

Jensen dug three.

The door handle is hard to push, the door itself weighs a thousand pounds, and Jensen steps through into the quiet hospital room and listens to the beeping of the heart monitor as he takes in the flower arrangements and balloons strewn across the room. Jared is on the bed, pale and washed out under the sheets.

He closes the door behind him quietly, carries his dinky bouquet and feels out of place and stupid surrounded by the evidence of people who actually love Jared the way he should be loved. It’s selfish to be here, it will end in misery, but he has to do it. Has to get the closure.

Jensen sits for a long time in the uncomfortable chair, stares at Jared sleeping and memorizes the moles and cheekbones, the soft pink lips, and the rasp of stubble that he longs to touch. Then he reaches out and brushes Jared’s hair from his eyes before he speaks.

“Jay?”

Slanted, multi-colored eyes open slowly, bleary with sleep, and blink before they focus on him.

“Je-Jensen?”

“Hey. Hey I just-uh-I came to give you flowers. And to- well-I guess to let you get-“

“Get in the bed stupid. I’m tired.”

Jensen freezes in place and then closes his eyes.

“Jared I’m not- you don’t have to do this.”

There’s a laugh, low and pained, and then a hand grips his tight to the point of pain.

“No. No, but you do. Get in the bed. We’ll argue another time.”

And Jensen gets in.

[Masterpost](http://dimeliora.livejournal.com/47943.html)


End file.
